A Song to Sing
by Rockbird
Summary: A wave of nausea overtook her and she vomited. Metallic, like blood. So she was tied up alone in a basement in the middle of nowhere and vomiting blood. Things were not looking up. Liv... Where was she...? They'd gotten separated... But how?
1. Outside Eyes

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters I'm using, however, Alex Cabot's alias, Melissa Strom is my doing.

Author's note: Formatting may be a bit screwy... so basically, save the last bit, which is simply Olivia's suicide note... (or is it) the first line is the speaker, the second line is the title of that bit.

Author's second note: This was originally posted under the account DetectiveLivvy, which was mine. I'm getting rid of it, and reposting my stories under this name. I've done some reformatting/editing though.

Enjoy

* * *

Alex Cabot/ Melissa Strom

What is Real?

Being a different person... It's more bizzare than anything else I've ever experienced, and more unpleasant. I don't think I'll ever get used to it... or accept it. Some things aren't meant to be, and this whole 'Witness Protection' thing is one of them.

There are certain defining traits of one's character that we assume will always be... But when you're someone else, with someone else's life story behind you, you have to think before you act. A blonde ADA I once was... once knew... I'm not sure which... was confident and bold... But now, I'm a different woman with different experiences, thrice bitten, six times shy.

My first husband was abusive, so I divorced him, but lost my beloved son in a bitter custody battle. My second husband was everything my first wasn't. And he died, cancer. Then my first husband and son were killed in a car crash. I've apparently known my share of sadness. After repeating the story enough times and acting in accordance with the person it would have produced, it's sometimes more real to me than my true past.

I'm done being her now though. I'm going to be that ADA again, though for now, I'll be strawberry instead of true blonde, my hair can't take any more dyeing. I won't have my old job. I will have the one I've been longing for, loving, all along, that never changed. I'm going back for her. I'm not sure what I'll do once I get there... but we'll be together again.

* * *

Out of Character  
Donald Cragen

I've been worried lately. As a Capitan, it's my job to watch out for the cops in my squad, to watch out for them as I would my family. That's what they are sometimes like to me, especially because I never had much of my own. John is like a brother, and Fin's like a son. Elliot is like an eldest child, always trying to get it right. That's part of what makes him a great cop. Then there was Alex, a middle child, industrious and hard working, but sometimes a bit distant, before the whole mess that took her from us, Olivia (I am aware that Olivia is a little older than Alex, but it fits for the metaphor) took it the hardest. That brings me to the last member of our strange family, the youngest daughter, a girl with something to prove. First it was that she was tough enough to handle SVU, then that she was nothing like her father. So strong, yet so fragile. If you were to hit her weakness, she would shatter to thousands of pieces, and the weak spot was struck, like a firing pin hitting the primer, it set off a chain reaction when Alex was shot.

The pieces came back together for the most part, enough that she could function, but so many crucial fragments never fell back into place. They went with Alex, and stayed with her, even after we found out our ADA had survived. It seemed she had been getting better, but for the last few weeks, it has seemed the missing pieces have been letting her spirit drip away, the slow leak gradually breaking her down. The second anniversary of the attack is probably the culprit for the recent decline, and I have tried talking to her, but I can't get through.

I took my concerns to Elliot, in hopes that her partner had some insight that could help. He told me she was still as sharp as ever when on the trail of a perp, as compassionate with victims, and as brilliant at interrogations, but he had seen the problem too, and he was amazed she'd kept the depression from seeping over into work. And that she'd been drinking more. After work. Every night. For the last month. I wasn't surprised.

Munch was my next lead, he'd always offered her a shoulder to cry on when she'd needed it, rare as such events may be, and let his sarcasm and conspiracies shut down when she needed sensitivity, like a trusted uncle.

He knew about the drinking, and usually went with her. She'd been drowning her misery in orange liquor. He often drove her home, instead of letting her take a cab, despite her objections, after all, they lived near by.

I thought about asking Fin, the two were fairly friendly, but she probably hadn't confided any more to him than to anyone else. Everything so far was based on observations, and the two didn't usually have the opportunity to spend time together.

I got a call early the next morning, very early, from Olivia. She asked for the day off, I gave it to her, no questions asked, she needed it, and it was a comfort to know the headstrong detective was willing to rest a bit. It would probably do her good.

* * *

Observances

Elliot Stabler

Something's been wrong with my partner for a long time now, nothing specific, not an acute depression, but a soft sadness, hanging around her like a mist, clouding her, slowly leeching away her strength, her will. It's scared the living daylights out of me.

I've tried talking to her about it, trying to tell her to rest, or get some help, or just tell me what the problem is, without saying it directly, but either she hasn't noticed, or she doesn't want to hear.

I am a religious man, I've always prayed at night, giving thanks for my family, for everything that's gone right, but it's not been until recently that I ever had to pray for something serious, a speedy recovery for a friend injured in the line of duty, or acceptance letters for Maureen are serious, but this had a different depth. If a buddy from the academy took an extra few weeks to heal, things would be back to normal eventually, and if Maureen didn't get into Brown, she'd get Harvard or Vassar, things would work out, with Liv, it was different.

This thing she's fighting is bleeding her dry. She used to drink socially, out with friends, maybe a glass of wine when at a restaurant, but it used to be she never really drank unless we'd lost a tough one, and then we all did. Lately it was different. A while ago, John and I created an unspoken, yet well understood pact to watch out for her. Every night when she went off to drink herself into oblivion, one of us went with her, made sure she had someone there for her if she decided to talk, made sure she got home at night.

It was all we could do. Watch over her. Watch over her and pray.

* * *

Unreachable

Odafin Tutuola

I don't really feel left out, they're still my buds, besides, I've always taken a more direct approach. They have their "Benson Redemption Initiative," and I have my simple, one-man rescue mission.

So far, my methods have had little effect, but theirs have had none. While I have been active, trying to make her open up, they have been like padding, breaking her fall, softening life's blows. The only problem is it isn't working, she is unreachable.

So walled up, she must be scared mindless, she acts like it sometimes. She's the same cop, but the rest of the time, she is not herself. She isn't someone else either. She is hollow. She is no one. Her coffee eyes once showed her strength, vivacity, tenacity, compassion, and most of all her spirit. Now they were vacuums, and in the rare chance I could make eye contact, it scared me, her emptiness threatened to suck away my spirit as well. Occasionally a spark used to shine through, light up her face, even give her enough warmth to laugh or smile, but that grew rarer and rarer, until the last bit of fire was gone from her.

The bastard that shot Alex also shot Benson, and she was dying, slowly bleeding away. The prosecutor was like a ray of sunlight, shining through the tangled, dark forest that was the life of our Liv, giving fierce woman a bit of added strength, but when Cabot left, the strength was taken with her, and it left a gaping would through which the ferocity could seep out.

I don't know if we took to long trying to reach her, or went about it all wrong, but even if we were to have the answer, it might be to late, the one we all knew may be gone.

* * *

If No Mitzvah Can Be Done

John Munch

Every Jewish child learns Hebrew.  
I was no exception, although I saw no use.  
Mitzvah was the first thing they taught us.  
I am not a religious man,  
But with me that word shall remain.  
A truly good man does a mitzvah for a stranger  
A somewhat good man does a mitzvah for a friend  
A no good man does a mitzvah for himself.  
I cannot see a dear friend suffer, the deeds I do for Benson are for me  
Because I cannot bear to see her sadness, this mitzvah is for me, so I know  
I am the latter of the three.  
I try not to let it show, there's a reason for my sarcastic, biting mask  
When I see those I care for suffer, their suffering becomes a part of me  
I do these things to try to save her  
To save her from herself  
But if these deeds are to no avail, they shall not assuage my guilt.  
The love of her life was stolen from her arms  
So soon after she had found the love  
And she felt it even more when it was gone.  
When her soul mate was ripped from her arms  
She cried  
That day took its toll on all of us in different ways  
We all eventually recovered  
Healing in our own ways  
All but the greatest fighter among us  
She drifted away.  
She had always held her head high,  
Never hiding from the truth  
No matter how ugly that truth was  
She faced it head on  
And came out stronger for it  
But this was different.  
At first she seemed to heal  
The wound scabbing over  
But as more time passed, it began to fester,  
As though a promise made was a promise broken  
After a year and a half, the wound began sapping her too fast  
Suddenly she drank hard  
But never slept  
And scarcely ate a bite  
And wanted it all to end.  
Every kiss given  
Every smile  
Every tear  
Everything between the two, the light and the dark  
Was slowly killing the one who got left behind  
A shadow of herself, wasting away  
Wanting to fade away, and blow away like dust  
Wanting to forget the memories  
But she cannot escape the memories  
She can't escape her mind.

* * *

Worried

Donald Cragen

I gave her the day off two days ago. When she didn't show up for work yesterday, I was worried, but I also hoped she had decided to relax or go do something for the first time in quite a while. When she didn't show up this morning, I knew something was wrong, and so did Elliot. As soon as he mentioned her absence, he volunteered to check on her, I'd been planning on doing that myself, but he really seemed to want to go. I made him promise to call me as soon as he got there, and again once he had spoken to her, then he grabbed Munch and sped out the door...

* * *

Rush Rush

Elliot Stabler

Captain and I discussed Olivia's prolonged absence, I volunteered to go check on her, and grabbed Munch on my way out. I drove his car; it's a bit faster. There was no conversation on the way. The lump in my throat was so tight I could barely breathe, much less talk, and I'm pretty sure he felt the same way. Capitan seemed concerned, the fact that he let us go said a lot, though he was probably trying t hide how worried he was. The drive seemed to take forever.  
When we finally arrived at the towering apartment complex, I hopped out at the curb, munch took the car to find a parking structure somewhere. I bolted through the doors, eternally grateful for cheap supers that didn't hire doormen. Knowing already that the elevator would take too long, I hurried up the stairs to Olivia's apartment and was surprised to find the door unlocked. And unnerved to discover she was nowhere in sight...

* * *

Too Late

John Munch

I reached the apartment  
After parking the car  
And found the door wide open  
And Elliot hunched over in a chair,  
Facing away.  
I spied a slip of paper on the table in front of him  
In the near-barren apartment.  
And read what it had to say...

* * *

My Fault, Her Fault, Whose Fault (or All Gone)  
Elliot Stabler

Damn her! Damn Her! How could she do this to me? To all of us? Not again! We fought so hard to save her. Why the hell didn't she let us help?  
I don't know what to feel. I can't let her go. Fury, that she would do something like this? Sadness, that she's gone? Guilt, that I didn't try hard enough? I don't know. I can't believe she'd do this.  
I should have seen it coming. She's been so sad for so long. Hopeless. Helpless. But I always thought we could get through, that she would give us the time, and the chance to bring her back from the shadow she'd become.  
But this doesn't seem like the Olivia we all knew. She was a fighter, I thought she would be till the end. I think we all feard watching her fade away, slowly dying on the inside...until she starved herself to death, to miserable to eat, but as long as there was breath in her, there was hope, maybe she'd snap out of it, never till recent'y did we all believe in, rely on, false hope.  
I read the note again, not sure what I'm searching for...

How could she see herself as a burden. How did one with such insite turn blind. We WANTED to help, all of us willing to do as much as it took, but she deprived us of the chance. And Alex has nothing to do with this! Olivia knew she'd be back, and probably soon. None of her reasoning fit. I guess that shows just how lost my partner was.

* * *

Dont Cry For Me

_To my esteemed colleagues and dear friends at the 1-6, I am very thankful for all the support you have provided for me, from when I first joined SVU to the present, and especially in the present. I know every one of you has gone out of your way for me, perhaps even too far out of your way. While I appreciate the sentiment, I can no longer be a burden._

_Since I first became a cop, I saw things that no one is meant to see, and every time I close my eyes, I see them again. My hands are stained with blood, both that of those I could not help, and of fellow humans on whom I was forced to open fire. Perhaps the most staining blood was that of my former lover, Alex. I realize you all knew, and appreciate your discreet behavior regarding that matter. I realize that she is still alive, and the knowledge soothes my heart, but the realization that I may never be able to see her again is a different kind of pain. Should she return, tell her I love her, and that she deserves every moment of happiness she gets, and then some. You all deserve that, for the protection you provide for the people of this city. Everyone, have a great life; you will not be seeing me again._

_My best wishes,  
Olivia Benson_

_

* * *

_

And on that note, please review.


	2. Lili Marlene

Lili Marlene

* * *

Disclaimers:  
I do not own Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, they belong to dick wolf. I don't own the characters either.

I do not own the song Lili Marlene, it belongs to whoever wrote it, or maybe The late ms. Dietrich (which would probably mean her daughter, Maria Siber owns the rights...don't know ...

This story describes a romance between two women. Nothing graphic, but it's  
not subtext, it's the point of the story. If the idea of two women being in love offends you, do not read on.

Authors Notes: This was originally posted under a different username. I dropped fanfiction in general for a while, came back with a different username and missed this story… so I had two usernames… I've decided to consolidate… so this chapter was originally the beginning of a story… It's going to be continued… but under a different screen name. (I used to be DetectiveLivvy, I didn't copy this story from someone else, this is just me reorganizing)

I'm sorry for any inconvenience or confusion this may have caused.

* * *

Olivia Benson had been depressed for a week. It was the two-year anniversary of the day Alex had been placed in the witness protection program, two years since she had lost the love of her life. She looked out the window of her apartment at the city skyline, illuminated by stars and street lights and nearly wept. A few lyrics of a song drifted through her mind, of a song she had not heard since the day Alex was stolen from her.  
"...I'll always stand and wait for you at night,  
We will create a world for you,  
I'll wait for you the whole night through...  
For you, Lili Marlene  
For you, Lili Marlene..."  
She and Alex had been romantically involved for some time before Velez. The sleazy bastard had ruined everything. The lyrics were from their song, an old song, Lili Marlene, and the notes haunted her. They had loved the words together, in English and German, it had somehow been perfect for the two, capturing the fragile life they had grown to share.  
"...I want another evening with her charms,  
Then we will say goodbye and part,  
I'll always keep you in my heart,  
With me, Lili Marlene,  
With me, Lili Marlene..."

Alex had sent her a note the day she left:  
"I will return to you, someday. If it is safe, it will be soon. If it  
is not safe, I will visit, in the dark of the night. I will send a  
sign only you will know if my visit must be secret. Should that be the  
case, I will make it so that you may come away with me. I will always  
keep you in my heart,  
with all my love,  
I am your Lili Marlene,  
Alex" For many months, Olivia had hoped the note would prove true, either the gang would be rooted out, or Alex would send the sign. It had been two years since the note had first been read, but neither had happened, and she had lost hope.

A few knocks on the door interrupted her mournful thread of consciousness, she went to answer it.

"Delivery for Ms. Benson..."

Olivia took the box and bid the man farewell. Once she was alone again, she opened the box. When its contents were revealed, she nearly fainted, and more of the lyrics floated back to her mind.

"Give me a rose, to show how much you care,  
Tie to the stem a lock of golden hair..."

Wrapped in delicate tissue paper lay a single Champaign rose, tied to its long stem, in velvet ribbon, was a snippet of fine blond hair. It was her sign. She left the rose on the coffee table and walked slowly to her CD rack, barely breathing.

One disk was out of place, as she knew it would be, it was of Dietrich, it had Lili Marlene, both the English version, and the German. Olivia held the case; there were finger marks in the two-year-old crust of dust that had accumulated. She opened the thin container and a slip of paper fluttered to the ground. She picked it up.

"Two years have passed,  
And in that time,  
So much has changed.  
Once, every day, you marched away  
Your return was not sure  
You told me it would be fine  
And I was your Lili Marlene  
Now I must hide,  
And fight so far away  
And you were left behind  
To be my Lili Marlene.  
Two years have passed  
The first two lines shall reveal  
Where we should meet again.  
When at last the sky matches the rose  
Meet me, my Lili Marlene."

Silent, burning tears rolled down her cheeks, and her mind began to decipher the code. Though some had been poetry, much was symbolism. Her mind snapped into detective mode.

'When at last the sky matches the rose..." It was a Champaign rose, its colors like a sunrise... or a sunset. Judging by her other clues, "in the dark of the night..." from the first note, and "at last the sky..." from the new one, it was the latter of the two. She knew when to meet, but was unsure of where. She started the CD, and listened to the first two lines sung in the delicious, smoky voice.

"Outside the barracks,

By the corner light..."

The barracks could mean one of a few places. At first she thought of grand old army plaza, but it made no sense, this song was from the 2nd world war, that was a shrine to the first, and to the civil war. Then it came to her, the barracks were where the troops lived and slept, the police station. She knew it would be their precinct, were the SVU squad had spent so much of their lives. Now all she had to do was wait.

In the next few hours, Olivia's mind raced, what would she say to her long lost love, there was so much to say, yet it all seemed irrelevant, her love was coming back to her...coming back for her...but could she go?

If she left, she might never be able to return. Stabler, Fin, Munch, Cragen...even Huang...they had become her second family, they had comforted each other in times of grief, ad rejoiced together in the rare instance that something went right. She didn't want to cause them more, as leaving would do. If she were to leave, she couldn't tell anyone and they would worry, they would fear for the worst and never be able to know the truth. She could not even ask for advice, that too would give too much away. Suddenly, being reunited was much more complicated.

* * *

Olivia Benson rose at dawn, though she hadn't realized she had even slept. She had so much to do. Her mind began to race, she couldn't really think until she forced herself to slow down. Work... She had to do something about work.

Knowing she wouldn't be able to go in that day, regardless of what happened, she reached for the phone. She would ask for a personal day, and only hoped Cragen didn't ask why...she really couldn't tell him. The phone rang only once before it was picked up.

"Cragen, this is Olivia. I need the day off." She said in monotone, praying he would just let it be.

"You're here everyday. Go ahead, you need the rest. You've looked like shit the past few days."

"That's my job, thank you, thanks, sorry I called you at home, bye." She hung up. Normally the 2nd thanks would have been dripping with sarcasm, but she was more than a little preoccupied. Now it was time to think.

Olivia sat in her bedroom, her eyes closed, pondering her future, weighing costs, and praying to whatever was out there that she made the right decision. Sometimes she wished she had her partner's strong faith, if she had some sort of a guiding force, she would probably know exactly what to do... but that wasn't the case, it was her choice, and hers alone.

At first it had seemed like a given that she would go to her Alex, to rekindle the love nearly smothered by a bit (or more than a bit...) of bad fortune (or an attempted gang hit. Call it what you like), and to be reunited with her soul mate. Unfortunately, the detective was unsure of what path to take as the time she had spent just waiting had clouded her mind, fogged out her certainty. She had until sunset to decide for sure, and the hours that bridged the gap to that crucial moment would be, instead of filled with a giddy joy, a drawn out agony.

She presumed this arrangement had somehow been approved by the guys in Witness Protection, and that Alex hadn't done something incredibly dangerous, thoughtless, and otherwise risky. Either way, she would go; Olivia just preferred the former choice.

If she left...her job would be gone. She could enroll in another department, she was just below the maximum age for recruits in most places, but if they had to change identities repeatedly, she'd probably have to find a different line of work. Which brought her to the next big concern, Alex was a far more disciplined person in many respects, and a bit better at acting, Olivia didn't know if she could stay in character, she worried, would she forget some crucial detail, use the wrong name, give them away with some stupid inconsistency?

The dark-haired woman thought, and her world was in a time warp. Her choice took only seconds, but seemed like years, or was it the reverse, she could not tell. She reached a decision, for her whole life, she had gone with her head or her gut, but now it was time to go with her heart. Her heart lay with Alex, and so she would follow, now all she had to do was wait.

I have to go. It's the only way. I just can't do anything stupid, Olivia thought to herself, I belong with Alex. This may be my only chance to be with her...to be happy. The sun was high in the sky when she started to prepare. She wasn't taking much with her, but she had to choose carefully, there was no going back once she left the apartment.

It was four in the afternoon when she left, a bit early, but she had an important errand or two to run. On her back was a knapsack with a change of clothes, shoes, a couple of sets of underwear, a few documents she thought might come in handy, and, of course, in a separate compartment, a rose, a CD, and two scraps of paper.

And now for those errands...

* * *

It was sunset. A strawberry blonde loitered at a street corner, just outside the streetlight's glow, down the street from a police station. The red glow of the sky reflected strangely off her over processed hair, making her look like the flaming red head she was for a month before she was a brunette, until she moved to Arkansas and became the red-blonde frizz head she was now. Not even the most expensive conditioners could salvage her hair now... Her eyes were blue, but hidden by sunglasses, which seemed drastically misplaced given the weather and her winter wardrobe.

Another woman, a brunette with cropped hair, stood nearby, glancing around, searching for a familiar face, someone caught her eye. She strode towards the individual in question, her outer calm and confident strut hiding her overwhelming nerves and the fact that she was holding her breath.

Frizz looked at her, and took off the glasses. The two ran the remaining paces between them, and were trapped in each other's arms, they stood like that, not caring about the people walking by. Neither said a word, there was nothing words could state more clearly than the embrace they shared.

They eventually broke apart and walked to Olivia's sedan, murmuring their "missed you so much..." and "I love you"s into each other's ears.

They sat in the car for a moment, gazing into each other's eyes.

"You've been crying..." the taller woman's voice full of sympathy as she traced one of the tear stains on her lover's cheek with a delicate finger.

"I was so worried you wouldn't come... I..."

"Shh, it's ok, we're together now. Everything's gonna be fine." Benson held the other woman for a moment. "we should get going. I hate to ask this, but where are we going?"

"Back to your place."

"What? Please explain... I thought we were going away from the city... where you'd would be safe..."

"I'll explain when we get there."

"Ok, just one more question."

"yes?"

"Well...before I came here... I went on a couple of errands ...and...I uh, I stopped at a uh..."

"My dear Liv," her voice turned authoritative, "would you please stop beating around the bush before I am forced to use my magical attorney powers to make you spit it out."

"Okay," she took a deep breath, and pulled a small box out of her pocket, "Alexandra Cabot, or whoever you are now... will you marry me?" with that she opened the box, revealing a ring, a marquee diamond set in platinum , with perfect jelly opals to either side.

Alex's face lit up with a grin...then she started giggling, as though trying to hold back a burst of laughter.

"God, you love tormenting me, don't you. I propose when I haven't seen you in two freaking years, and you laugh at me..."

The attorney cut her off with a quick French kiss. "I, I accept. But I guess I owe you an explanation."

"You sure as hell do."

Blue eyes began rummaging through her purse and pulled out a similar box. "I was about to ask you the same question." The box contained a platinum band with a simple vine design, interrupted by the occasional diamond or emerald.

Once the rings were on the appropriate fingers, the drive to the detective's apartment began. The conversation in the vehicle was as though they had never been separated.

* * *

Alex carefully bolted the door to Olivia's apartment once they were both inside, and began speaking in hushed tones, "Do you have a cover worked out yet?"

"What do you mean by a 'cover'"

"People don't just vanish. How can you leave without starting an investigation?"

"I was really hoping you had coordinated this with the witness..."

"I tried, believe me, they include spouses, children, occasionally extended family when necessary, sometimes they can be persuaded to include a fiancé, but they said no to this, and wouldn't budge." this is going to have no government aid."

"I was hoping you didn't have something rash planned, but even better, you have NO plan, there's not much to do about it now. Any MORE bright ideas?" Olivia's tone was unintentionally harsh; the stress of the situation was taking its toll on her.

"You don't have any relatives who could conveniently get sick, and they know it... I... I'm not sure, I think I have an idea but you're not going to like it.

"I'll do whatever it takes."

"Faking your death?"

"One problem, that usually requires a body and this one's in use. Besides, I thought we were trying not to start some sort of investigation."

"Suicide"

"Like leave a note saying I'm going to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge or something."

"Exactly, but don't give details, vague so they don't try to recover a body."

"That just might work."

The mood in the room suddenly loosened, and they began working. Alex, who remembered Olivia's apartment like the back of her hand from the many nights she had spent there, put together a small suitcase and a backpack with clothes, toiletries, and other essentials, careful to choose items that wouldn't be missed when Olivia finally was. Meanwhile the brunette sat at her desk, trying to compose a proper suicide note, while wondering what made a proper suicide note, and even if there was such a thing. It refused to flow, so she first scribbled a simple note saying her affairs were in order (which they were, due to the dangerous nature of her work, she had drawn up a will ages ago, and she had withdrawn her finances earlier that day in preparation for the journey), and that that she was sorry for what she had to do. Finally, she began the more important of the two documents, and was amazed at how the words finally began to flow.

_To my esteemed colleagues and dear friends at the 1-6, I am very thankful for all the support you have provided for me, from when I first joined SVU to the present, and especially in the present. I know every one of you has gone out of your way for me, perhaps even too far out of your way. While I appreciate the sentiment, I can no longer be a burden. _

Since I first became a cop, I saw things that no one is meant to see, and every time I close my eyes, I see them again. My hands are stained with blood, both that of those I could not help, and of fellow humans on whom I was forced to open fire. Perhaps the most staining blood was that of my former lover, Alex. I realize you all knew, and appreciate your discreet behavior regarding that matter. I realize that she is still alive, and the knowledge soothes my heart, but the realization that I may never be able to see her again is a different kind of pain. Should she return, tell her I love her, and that she deserves every moment of happiness she gets, and then some. You all deserve that for the protection you provide for the people of this city. Everyone, have a great life; you will not be seeing me again.

My best wishes  
Olivia Benson

She sat there; staring at her note, knowing she was turning a page in her life, and that there was no going back. Ever. Yet that was fine. She loved her fellow detectives dearly, but her love for the blue-eyed attorney was something of a different magnitude that overpowered all else. Alex stood behind her and carefully placed a hand on the shoulder of her friend,

"It's time to go," she said softly

"Okay, lets go."

They left the apartment hand in hand; ready to face whatever came next.

* * *

Please Review. Please please please please. 


	3. Reprise

Lili Marlene is a song I did not write and do not own. Olivia Benson and Alex Cabot are the creation of Dick Wolf, and I'm guessing he owns them too. I borrowed the song and the characters.

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In a small hotel room, somewhere in the Bronx, the television flickered mutely and a CD played softly on repeat track. Two women lay, tangled in each others' arms. On a desk across the room there was a triple-a map with a route clearly marked in red.

9 south  
7 west  
280  
20  
280  
81  
11  
A small town in the Finger Lakes region was circled.  
20 west 290  
190  
Niagara falls  
The line faltered from the roads, into a squiggling, curling, spiraling design, they'd play it by ear once they crossed the border, until they found a nice little church, somewhere in Canada. Or maybe just a justice of the peace. It didn't really matter which. Maybe in a small town, or maybe in a big city, Toronto or Ottawa, someplace vaguely reminiscent of a less graffiti-ed New York City. They'd be using their real names, despite the risks. Alex Cabot and Olivia Benson. Alex was tired of being someone else, and Olivia never wanted to experience the strangeness that assuming an identity entailed, it was better this way.

"Outside the barracks, by the corner light,  
I'll always stand and wait for you at night  
We will create a world for two.  
I'll wait for you the whole night through,  
For you Lili Marlene, for you Lili Marlene.

Bugler tonight, don't play the call to arms,  
I want another evening with her charms,  
Then we will say goodbye and part,  
I'll always keep you in my heart,  
With me Lili Marlene, with me Lili Marlene.

Give me a rose to show how much you care,  
Tie to the stem a lock of golden hair.  
Surely tomorrow, you'll feel blue,  
But then will come a love that's true  
For you Lili Marlene, for you Lili Marlene.

When we are marching in the mud and cold,  
And when my pack seems more than I can hold,  
My love for you renews my might.  
I'm warm again, my pack is light.  
It's you Lili Marlene, it's you Lili Marlene."

It was the first time in two years, for either of them, that they got a good night's sleep. No nightmares or tossing and turning, no insomnia, just peace.


	4. Fools Rush In

Disclaimers:

None of the songs or musicians I mentioned are mine or in any way related to me

I don't own Alex, Olivia, or any other character from 'Law and Order: SVU'

Author's Notes:

Not much to say actually, for once. Thanks to anyone and everyone who takes the time to review.

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There was light-hearted bickering in the car for the first hour and a half. Alex wanted to listen to a CD of Edith Piaf. Liv wanted an ancient tape of 'The Who'. It was a stalemate until Olivia put in 'Beatles One' to get her traveling companion to shut up. It worked like a charm, and all was well for the next fifty miles.

Half way through 'Blackbird,' there was a dull...thumping noise coming from the rear of the vehicle...

'Crap... I think we've got a flat,' the detective mumbled, 'do you keep a spare in here?'

'Hmm... yeah... I think there's one in the trunk... and a jack... I hope...' she said as she pulled over.

Olivia had spent the better part of an hour trying to change the tire (with little success as it were, especially considering that the tire was of the wrong dimensions) while Alex peered over her shoulder, offering essentially useless suggestions, and pestering with questions about how much longer the process would take when a grey Toyota Camry pulled over near them. It was in reasonably good condition, especially for a car that appeared to have been created not long after the bicentennial. Two men stepped out, swarthy in complexion, and dark haired, though one was balding.

"Need any help?" one of the men (the younger of the two, whose faded work jeans were rather tight in the waist) asked through a thick accent after muttering something to his companion in Spanish.

"Uh yeah... our tire seems to have gone flat and the uh spare doesn't fit," having to explain that the tire had been purchased in the wrong size did not make Olivia feel particularly intelligent.

"I can help with that maybe, a little bit of muscle can make a lot of things fit," he seemed to be hinting at something, "So, where are you two lovely ladies headed?" the man rolled up his sleeves and knelt down by the wheel to begin his inspection.

Alexandra Cabot could not, for the life of her, figure out why the man seemed so ill at ease, or why she felt the unbearable urge to lie. Perhaps it was two years of lying, or perhaps it was just... a childish impulse, whichever it was, she somehow resisted. "Auburn, then Niagara Falls."

"Pretty country up that way. Almost as pretty as you." He gestured to his companion with a curt nod of the head, "Eduardo." The bald man came, as he bent, a tin of Altoids fell from his pocket and clattered open, spilling its contents across the pavement.

He mumbled something in Spanish, apparently, from his tone, a curse. The other man spoke to him crossly in the foreign tongue.

The fact that it had fallen was not particularly amazing, the pockets in the bald man's khaki pants were, in fact, quite shallow. Nor was the fact that the tin had come open, for that happed quite frequently, Alex, in fact, recalled a specific incident when the tin had simply come open in her purse. She'd been fishing out mints for a month (though she would never admit that their extended stay in the bottom of her shoulder bag had not dissuaded her from consuming them as they were found. The detail which struck both the detective and the attorney as unusual. Nay, the detail that struck them both as downright bizarre was that he went quickly skittering after them, carefully blowing off each tablet before carefully reinserting them in the tin. The bald man hurried back to the car.

"I apologize for my friend's... unusual behavior. It's not like him. It's just the long drive. Being still for long times... it bothers him." The man was slick, that was for certain, though he sounded slightly fazed. "Let me get your tire fixed and you can be on your way.

The tire was quickly exchanged, though the two women decided they would need, without a doubt, to stay over a day in Auburn to get it replaced with a proper tire. And, as the man had said, they were soon on their way.

A few miles later, when the grey car and its occupants were safely out of sight, and the music was, once again, safely on (this time it was Grace Jones), conversation picked up.

"Liv, you speak a bit of Spanish, right?"

"Yeah... and no, I didn't pick up much of what they said."

"Haven't seen me in two years and you can still read my mind, sad, isn't it. Am I really that predictable?"

"Not at all, I just know you that well."

"Love you."

"I Love you too Hun."

For the next two songs ('The Hunter Gets Captured By the Game' and 'Warm Leatherette'), there was a comfortable silence. Then Alex spoke again.

"So what did he say?"

"Huh?"

"You said you didn't pick up much of what he said, which implies you still picked up some of it. What?"

"You haven't been practicing law, or at least not trial law for two years and you still think like a prosecutor."

"It's in my blood, and you're being evasive, please."

"It was nothing important." Olivia did a poor job of masking the concern in her voice.

"Just tell me. I will not beg, but I can and _will_ make you beg if need be. Though on second though, I'll probably make you beg later on, just for kicks, now tell me."

"We're almost in town... I'll tell you once we get stopped for the evening. Hey, there's a motel at the next exit, do you mind staying there for the evening?"

"Uh, sure, whatever, we're not going to be getting out early tomorrow anyhow, what with the tire and all."

"Hun, tomorrow's Saturday, if you think we're going to be able to get a tire replaced in a small town like this on a Saturday, you're nuts, we're probably going to have to stay the weekend," Olivia didn't sound particularly comfortable with the prospect, an uneasiness her soon to be wife failed to overlook.

"It's a nice town... What's bothering you, there's something, just tell me."

Just then, they pulled into the parking lot of the motel, whose neon sign flickered lime green and tangerine, 'Finger Lakes Forest View Resort, TV, Pool, Vacancy'.

"I'll tell you when we get to the room"

They rented a room for the night, as soon as the door was closed and the chain set, the interrogation continued.

"Okay Olivia, we're here. We're in the room. Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Yes there is. You're never evasive just for the hell of it."

"Fine, call it a cop's intuition, or the cynicism and paranoia of a jaded law enforcement officer, whichever suits you, but there's something I didn't like about you two."

"I trust your judgment, and believe me, I felt it too. And not just the generic sleaze ball type thing. But what did they say?"

"You know mi Español isn't great, and they were speaking quickly, and not at me, I didn't even hear half of it."

"And you wouldn't be bothering with all this pretext if there weren't something you were trying to shelter me from. The more you keep on, the more sure I become that you heard every word. Tell me, now."

Olivia gave in, against her better judgment, to the pleading of her fiancé, "Fine, first the ugly one asked the bald one if he had seen us before, or if we looked familiar, or something to that effect, then, when the bald guy dropped the tin, which I'm pretty sure wasn't filled with mints, he cursed. The other guy said he hoped for everyone's sake the product wasn't ruined and the boss was going to be mad."

"That doesn't sound good"

"Believe me, I know. I just didn't want you to worry or feel-"

"Feel guilty for telling them exactly where we're going when they're probably Velez's hit men or drug runners or henchmen or lackeys or... oh God, they might come after you now, they know about you know… God, I'm so sorry, god oh God! If, if they-"

Olivia placed a finger on her lover's lips, a signal to be quiet, not to fret. The gesture didn't have the desired effect of calming the woman. Instead, Alex collapsed into Olivia's arms, it wasn't so much this one small thing, the two men from the road, it was everything, being in hiding, the separation, the shooting, even the cases she had handled in her old life, it was everything compounded into this one great, horrible thing that was so out of her control. She sat there sobbing in the arms of the one person that had made her isolation so unbearable, in the arms of the one she loved, while Olivia held her, rubbed her back, and tried to keep her voice level and placid as she uttered reassurances...

"It's okay. We'll forget the tire and staying on tomorrow, we'll check out early, It's less than two hundred miles to the border, to Niagara Falls, we'll be fine. We'll be fine." Olivia Benson prayed silently that everything would be fine, she knew in her heart it wouldn't be, but if she repeated it enough, maybe she'd grow to believe it.

Silent tears slid down from big brown eyes, and their source was thankful her tears were at least under control, she could not offer comfort to the one crying into her shoulder if she too was wracked by sobs.

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Please Review 


	5. Concussed

Disclaimer: SVU isn't mine, neither are Alex or Olivia.

Notes: This one may seem... irrelevent, but it'll make sence later, I promise. Also, it may be hard to follow due to the formatting, I have two excuses, first, I have been obsessed with the elipse since I was first taught about it, I'm just normally a bit more restrained, and two, I'm trying to get across how altered, confused, disoriented, and generally out of it Cabot is at the moment

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_It's dark... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...Everything hurts... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...I don't know where I am... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...I know I must look a complete mess... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... I know I feel like one... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... My wrists are bound... ... My ankles too... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... It's so cold... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Where am I?... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...my hair is snarled, tangled, matted ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ... ...I think it's matted with blood... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Where's Olivia?... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...The last thing I remember, I was with her... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Oh God... ... ... Is she okay?... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... It's so dark here... ... ... she could be only a few feet away, I wouldn't know it... ... Is she hurt?... ... ... Am I?... ... ...What's going on?... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... I would cry out, but my throat is too dry... ... ... I would call for her if I could find the strength, but I just can't... ... ... ... I don't think she's here though... ... ... ... ...Oh God! What if... ... No, I can't think of that... ... she can't be dead... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..._

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I know there isn't much to review on this one, but I love reviews anyhow if it doesn't take too much of your time... 


	6. Aches and Pains

Disclaimer: Law and Order: SVU and its affiliated characters are the property of Dick Wolf, NBC, and USA Network. Probably. What I know for sure is that they aren't mine.

Author's Notes: Sorry it's been so long. This story may take the rest of my natural life to complete. No. I'm going to make a genuine effort to finish it while I'm in high school. I'm going to try to update more often, I've just been a bit tied up. Also, sorry this is so short.

Reviews: I will love you for ever.

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The internal debate raged, open her eyes and see what was going on, where she was, who was nearby, and risk anyone in the vicinity knowing she was conscious, or just keep playing dead. Well, not dead, just out cold. Out cold, and from the feel of it, rather badly beaten. Her side hurt when she breathed, every time, and there was a definite, grinding pain radiating from her shoulder joint. She tried, once or twice to move her left arm, not much, not enough to alert anyone to her consciousness, just enough to see if she could, and the attempt was met with radiating pains so severe she nearly cried out. So it was dislocated or broken, hopefully the former. She was naked and laying on a bare wood floor.

As she finished taking inventory of her aches and pains, Olivia decided she had broken some ribs on the left side, though she had no idea how many, dislocated her left shoulder, or maybe broken her hummers, but couldn't tell which from her current position, and over all, been badly beaten just about everywhere.

Finally, she opened her eyes and waited for the world to come into focus. She was alone, in an attic, dusty and warm. Shit, where was Alex? The window was barred. She couldn't open the heavy oak door. Locked in. There was an old mirror, full length, in the corner. An old doll house, some boxes labeled 'photo albums', 'taxes', 'records,' nothing of interest. Nothing of use. Some old chairs were stacked against another wall.

She stood up. She fell back down and yelped. How had she overlooked a twisted knee? Again, much more carefully, she brought herself up to her feet. She was no doctor, but a quick look in the mirror told her the shoulder was dislocated. Well, at least it wouldn't need a cast, she just needed someone to reduce it.

There was someone at the door, unlocking it. At the last minute, she decided it was probably safer to be perceived as unconscious. She sprawled out on the floor, eyes closed and waited.

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Please review.


	7. Flashback

Disclaimers: I don't own Alex Cabot, Olivia Benson, or Law and Order: SVU. Ownership of Melissa Strom is questionable.

Author's notes: I haven't seen the episode 'Ghost', and what I've seen of Conviction wasn't worth the time of day, no offence meant if you like that show.

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What a strange dream she'd been having. She and Olivia had been driving, then gotten a flat... Two strange men had helped them... One had a mint tin of crack...

Her eyes fluttered open, and there was just enough light for her to see outlines, silhouettes of black against dark grey. Enough that she could indeed be sure that her eyes were open. Was she in a basement? The floor was cement, cracked, damp, and gritty. There was a very small window she could see, open, but with heavy metal meshing over it, probably to keep rodents out as it was far too small for her to use as an escape route. She could hear crickets in the distance. Faint, bluish moonlight came in through it, if only a little. By the absence of city noises, she knew wherever she was, it was isolated. A wolf howled, not far away, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She hadn't been that afraid of the dark or the big bad wolf since she was three. Wherever she was, it was out in the middle of nowhere. A wave of nausea overtook her and she vomited. Metallic, like blood. So she was tied up alone in a basement in the middle of nowhere and vomiting blood. Things were not looking up. Liv... Where was she...? They'd gotten separated... But how?

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As she'd finally calmed down, Olivia had set the alarm clock for four in the morning, which gave them three and a half hours of sleep. They both needed a good night's rest, but now wasn't the time. It wasn't safe, they couldn't continue that night, but couldn't stay long. They'd drifted off, and all too soon, been roused by the shrill digital alarm. Not thinking, Alex reached to hit the snooze button, still nearly asleep and desperately wanting eight more minutes of slumber, but Liv had gently caught her hand. "We have to go sweetheart. Take a quick shower to wake up, then dress and we need to pay and go. I'll get some coffee started. You can sleep in the car."

"It's by turn to drive. Not fair to make you do it."

"I don't want you falling asleep at the wheel."

"M'kay," she rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow.

"Nu'uh, you've gotta get up now. I am not carrying you. Too tired to carry more than a suitcase, understood?" the brunette mumbled as she sat up, "don't make me take the blankets," she threatened, pulling at the corner of the thicker one.

"Wouldn't dare. Sadist. Tired," she peeked up from the pillow.

Olivia rubbed her eyes, "Would too, you know it, not a sadist, tired too. Move it," she paused, "please, love."

"Fine. You're welcome," Alex sat up slowly, and gave Olivia a quick kiss, "You can shower first though. I'll go eat one of the instant coffee packets.

After stifling a chuckle, Liv replied, "Okay. You haven't changed a bit, y'know. One of these days, I am gonna have to educate you on the finer points of caffeine consumption though, Babe."

"I know what a good latte is, and how to drink espresso, we don't have the right beans for either, and I need my early morning wake up buzz."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," she said and went into the bathroom and over to the shower, setting it to just above freezing. Hot showers were nice. Cold showers were not. If she took a hot shower, she'd take a long one, and there wasn't time for that.

Alex stared at the wall for a minute, lost in thoughts she couldn't have articulated, then forced herself to release the blankets she'd wrapped herself in and stand up. She took a moment to look around the room. It was not the worst place she'd ever stayed at, not by a long shot. The raspberry carpet was far too bright for her tastes, but new and thick, the bedspread was a garish paisley, but warm, and the sheets, though an uninspired shade of off white, were at least 300 thread count. The abstract acrylic painting hanging on the wall wasn't attractive at all, but at least it was there. Standard motel, she supposed, it wasn't like they'd requested the luxury suite. She could hear the shower running in the small bathroom, "Liv, I don't want to bother to unpack, do you care what you're wearing today?"

"Huh? Can you speak up?" she called back, shaking water from her ear.

"Do you care what you're wearing today?" Alex's voice was a bit louder.

"What?"

"Nevermind," she hollered loudly enough that the people in the next room could probably hear them, "you'll wear what I pick," she finished, more to herself, then opened the baggage and pulled out the first things that came to hand. Blue jeans and a turquoise button down top, it'd have to do. She rummaged a bit and found undergarments and socks, then rezipped the suitcase after shoving in the clothes Olivia had worn the previous day and her nightwear. She went to her own bag and chose a lavender polo shirt and khaki cargo pants. Melissa's clothes, not hers. One day, she was going to have to get some decent clothing, stuff she really liked. Stuff that Alex Cabot would wear, not an imposter played by someone formerly known as Alex Cabot. Call it the tail end of an identity crisis.

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Reviews are greatly appreciated. Sorry this update was so long in coming.


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